“You’re overthinking things because of your condition.”

I waited until his footsteps faded on the stairs to the second floor before I stepped behind his desk.

In the top right drawer, in a small velvet tray beside his pen set, was the black indelible rubber stamp with my name in block script.

I took a blank memo sheet from his desk tray and pressed the stamp firmly onto the paper under the yellow light.

I sat down in his desk chair and stared at the crisp blue impression on the white paper.